Monday, January 18, 2010

My beloved

Always, just as dawn creeps over our window, you would pull on your jacket and leave. Through my blanket of sleep, I sense you patting my head and I give a quick kiss and return to my dreaming of our forever.You never kiss my nose, complaining about its moisture. The more time spent sleeping, the less time spent waiting.

As always by noon, I would wake to the lonely shivering of our bed which leaves no traces of our love. In the kitchen, the only evidence of your existence are the half-eaten eggs and toast you dumped into my bowl.Leftovers for breakfast again.

To pass time, I usually curl beside the window and watch the passings and goings of the people below. It is like television, seeing the sun crawl across the sky and seeing a man return to his car at the end of the day. Sometimes, my tail waves to strangers mistaking them for you.

Humans, they all look the same, except for you. You are special in the way you smell. In the morning, you smell like mint and in the afternoon, you smell like coffee. Sometimes, you smell like custard and that is because you like custard as much as I do. But mostly, you are special because you smell of home.

Recently, as you come home late, you bring with you a woman with the scent of roses. I thought you hate roses? I don't like the way she clings onto your arm and I couldn't help but growl at her. I don't like the way you gaze at her and not at me and I don't like how she pats my head, pretending to be you. I let out a whimper and you kiss my nose. I stare into your eyes silently questioning: Are you sick? Is that why you're cheating on me?

Slowly, things began to change. The bathroom was filled with the scent of her and less of us. My napping couch was replaced by a new cow-hide smelling couch and the curtains turned into roses. Everything was changing. She was taking away everything. Our home was now also hers. She even stole my place beside you during the night. I hate her presence.

I can't ever hate you though, I love you too much. I would be lying if I said she isn't good for you. She cooks edible food so you actually eat and she cleans the house so mushrooms don't grow in places where there should be food. She makes you smile when I can't and hugs you when I can't. I only like her because she said once that my beloved still loves me. I only like her because, my beloved, she makes you happy.